The Open Road
by AliLamba
Summary: 4 of ?, 1xR // It's been six years since Heero first gave Relena her birthday gift, promising to eventually give it to her in person. Now Relena's on the run, and the only real option is to drive across the United States with Heero behind the wheel...
1. The Terrible Beginning

THE OPEN ROAD

Relena was in a good mood today. After three cups of her favorite coffee (someone had finally got it right) she was sitting comfortably in the private shuttle, neatly fastening her seatbelt and reclining into the plush seat. Outside her window the sky was clear and sunny, and the air was warm. San Francisco's skyscrapers couldn't be hidden by the leaves of distant trees being ruffled by the cool breeze. She would have liked to spend her vacation here, but convenience called that she should spend it closer to New York City, with Quatre at his Hampton home.

_Tap…tap…tap._

Relena inwardly cringed. She tried to block out the familiar sound as she pushed herself farther into the upholstery.

_Tap…taptaptaptaptaptap._

"Mackenzie," Relena opened her eyes and turned to the petite woman beside her.

The diminutive woman dropped her pen accidentally, "Oh, I'm sorry Miss Relena. I didn't mean to disturb you—I've been trying so hard, but I just can't seem to help the nervousness…" The brown haired, brown-eyed girl bit her lip, "Would you mind if I held your hand during takeoff again?"

Relena frowned slightly, "Mackenzie, I thought you were over this. We had a flight four days ago and you were fine…It's been nearly a month since your last bout of anxiety."

"I know," the other girl's mousy brown hair showed itself to Relena as she looked into her lap, "and I want to thank you for the opportunity you've given me," Relena smiled as Mackenzie paused, a thinking look covering her features, "…but it's just…" Relena's personal secretary smiled ruefully and shook her head, "I suppose I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

Laying a reassuring hand on Mackenzie's forearm, Relena's smile turned genuine. It had taken a while to find this one. When she didn't have a good explanation for the third time she was sent to the hospital for exhaustion, her "loving" brother insisted—no, demanded—that she get someone to help her manage her workload. In the end, despite her feverous protests, she had been forced to concede. Mackenzie was the fourth after three women (Milliardo has somehow lost all of the male applications) who were either too uptight, too slow or too disorganized. At first, Relena was annoyed and put off by this often forgetful, clumsy young woman (two years younger than herself, but she somehow made Relena always feel so old) but she soon came to adore and depend on her. Always moving made it hard to have a constant in her life, but for the past four months Relena hadn't been lonely.

"Try and relax."

Mackenzie finally seemed to absorb some of the warmth emanating from her dirty-blond-haired employer, and smiled reassuringly in return. As she came to fasten her seatbelt, Relena turned her head and allowed herself to get lost in her own thoughts. She began to wonder what the weather would be like on the place once called Long Island. She knew it would be humid and hot, but Quatre had mentioned sailing, which was something that couldn't be experienced on the colonies…

"Oh!" The foreign minister's reverie was broken by her assistant's voice, and Relena turned to her.

"Happy Birthday."

Relena smiled softly to her counterpart, trying to hide that she had forgotten.

Oh, goodness…Mackenzie was right. _Twenty-three_. At fifteen she definitely never would have thought that she would end up where she was then. _It had been a shuttle just like this one..goodness, six years ago now?_ Suddenly she looked around. Every year now he had hoodwinked her, somehow sneaking by her to leave her six little teddy bears. He was probably down in the luggage right now, Relena mused, picking out her bag among the pile and placing the gift neatly in her suitcase. Or the small token could be waiting for her in her hotel room, and she would see only the glimpse of Heero the busboy, or the doorman. Maybe two years ago she would have been obsessing over seeing him days beforehand, but now it was just sort of a short-lived comfort. If he had actually cared, she would see him more than in passing once a year…Relena shook her head to clear her thoughts. What was she doing? Today was a good day! Relena settled back into her seat, having unconsciously tensed.

She looked over at Mackenzie, wondering if she had read her thoughts; if she knew she was thinking about him again. The smaller woman had her schedule book open and was busy concentrating on Relena's next big weekend. Suddenly uncomfortable, Relena unbuckled her seatbelt, knowing that her thoughts were running with a mind of their own…hamburgers—alligators—water parks—Deutschland…Heero. The war now over, she had no reason to know where he was. _Not that I did before_, Relena reminded herself, but now that she had no excuse it was sometimes frustrating. She could only hope that he was happy with whomever he had chosen. In one of her sporadic conversations with Duo she learned that he had graduated from college two years before...

And then Relena felt Mackenzie's arm stiffen. There was a loud **thump** as the schedule book fell to the floor. She looked over at her assistant, about to chide her on being clumsy, but the sudden sight of her made Relena freeze.

The girl was staring straight ahead, eyes wide. Relena heard the noise.

There was a scuffle in the cockpit.

Voices were arguing—two of them, a muffling of material being strained. Relena felt herself tense up, feeling the smallest hairs on the back of her neck prickle.

The door burst open—loudly.

_Trowa? _He stood in the doorway, eyes wild, his chest heaving._ What is Trowa doing here--?_

Trowa lunged for the woman, grabbing her by the upper arm. Relena stifled a scream as the Gundam pilot ripped her out of her chair. _What the--?_ _Danger! Mackenzie!_ Relena whipped her head around to look to the other woman as she was nearly at the door, only glimpsing the woman fumbling furiously with her seatbelt, squirming desperately to follow Relena in her escape—"_Mackenzie_!"Relena didn't realize she screamed as Trowa grabbed her around her middle and jumped to the ground, sheltering her body as they rolled on the asphalt.

The shuttle exploded with fire.

Relena felt the blast from underneath the solid body. The heat overcame the air as debris fell around and over her savior.

NO! Relena didn't hear herself scream, trying to thrust herself out of Trowa's embrace. She didn't care why he was here! She didn't care what it meant that he was here! There was a woman aboard that ship who had no idea why she was dead! Mackenzie's parents had died in the war…

She was pushing roughly against Trowa's chest from where she was pinned to the asphalt beneath him, needing to get help—only stopping when Trowa's hands gripped her shoulders roughly. He was shouting her name but she could not hear him. She could see the smoke starting to rise from the debris of the craft. She could see the flashing lights in the distance, where the breeze was ruffling the leaves of the trees…

"—you all right!" he was yelling. Trowa's features were contorted with unconcealed anxiety. She pushed him away with strength she didn't know she possessed, standing and breaking into a run towards the ambulance and fire engine approaching.

"Relena!"

She wanted to rip off her high heels, knowing she wasn't getting far—her thoughts were cut short as she tripped on the jagged pavement, pitching forward—to find two arms wrap around her, catch her, spin her around to face him.

"You cannot put yourself at risk!" Wild green eyes were ablaze. Relena involuntarily sucked in a sudden breath as her own eyes widened, and her world collapsed. What had just…happened? She cast her eyes away from his. Her mind was suddenly reeling. She felt her knees begin to shake uncontrollably as she struggled for air past the overwhelming lump blocking her throat.

When the older man pulled away, Relena did not move to run again. Trowa looked her over before pulling his small cell phone from his pocket and punching buttons.

"Give me Une." There was a short pause, "There is a situation involving Operation two-eight-nine." He paused a moment to hear the other line and hung up the phone. He dialed another number.

"There is a problem."

Relena didn't understand what was happening. She watched in gruesome terror as the fire engine unloaded its hose, and the men aboard fought to control the flame. The ambulance was setting up their mobile ER unit, waiting for the fire to die down before they searched for bodies.

Relena was numbly aware of the tears beginning to soak her cheeks.

She turned from the wreck to Trowa. He was breathing heavily, glaring past her with a confined look. His clothes were torn from the tumble, and his right shoulder was becoming stained with red. Relena sucked in another breath as she walked purposefully over to him, undeterred when he noticed her intent upon his wound and raised his hands to meet her.

"Trowa, I will not ask you why it was that I was not informed of your presence if you allow me to at least attempt to do something to help the situation."

He looked like he was about to protest, but as he looked over her resolute features, he let his hands drop to his sides.

Relena crossed the remaining distance and tore his shirt from his shoulder, seeing the deep gash below his shoulder blade. Where most women would have gasped or fainted, Relena began pushing the former Gundam pilot towards the medical unit standing by.

When they were half way there Trowa was thrown off guard as the Foreign Minister choked on a sob and took off in a run.

"Agh!" Trowa yelled and grabbed for the woman, but the surprise of her outburst left him without enough time to react.

"There's a woman on board that ship!" she yelledemphatically,coming within hearing distance. A firefighter rushed over and grabbed her around the arms, hushing her and dragging her away from the carnage.

"We know, Miss. We're doing everything we can."

"It's not enough! You can't be doing enough! She could be dying!—Don't you realize that! She could be dying!"

Trowa reached her at that point, and took over. Relena began sobbing anew, frustrated and confused, as she cradled herself against Trowa's shoulder.

He winced as she came too close to his wound.

Relena lifted her head to meet his eyes—complete vulnerability staining her features. Her eyes trailed to his shoulder, and Trowa watched as she struggled to calm her quivering lips, began to blink to try to stop her tears. The determination crept in, and she focused. Sniffing all the snot back into her nose, Relena turned away from him, his arm in her hand, as she led him once again to medical personnel.

"This man needs attention," Relena announced upon their arrival, the gleam in her eyes making the man who looked up to confront her start. Trowa looked sheepishly towards the medic and surrendered himself.

"I understand Miss, but we're busy as it is."

"This man needs assistance!"

Trowa tried to nudge Relena discretely but missed.

"Okay, fine, you want him to get some help? Here," he reached into the van and pulled out a small first aid kit, "Do it yourself." He threw the box to her, and she caught it.

"Thank you," Relena replied quietly, turning with Trowa back towards where they had came. She paused two steps away, "The woman on board that ship is very dear to me."

And then she saw her out of the corner of her eye—heard first the shouting of people from the craft, and then the attendant she had just been speaking with grab the stretcher and rush forward. A man standing just inside the shuttle lifted a limp body down to the pristine white mat. Relena whirled around.

"She's alive!" someone yelled in the teal medical uniform.

There was a squeal of tires from somewhere distantly behind her, but Relena heard nothing but the phrase.

Relena smiled broadly, relief suddenly coursing through her like jumping into the coolest pool on the warmest day. She flung herself into Trowa's unsuspecting arms. "She's alive!" Relena reiterated, "Alive! Oh, goodness, she's alive…Mackenzie's alive…"

"Ahe…ahem."

Relena froze. Her eyes snapped open as ice seemed to flow down her spine. She stepped away from Trowa, and turned to face the man behind her.

"Heero," she said distantly.

He was standing behind the open door of his black sports car, wearing signature tight jeans and a simple, fitting white t-shirt. His hair was mussed, as usual, his dark blue eyes filled with intensity. Relena reminded herself to swallow as she composed herself.

Trowa stepped towards Heero, but Relena was lost on what was said next. She was becoming lost once again in those deep blue eyes, which refused to leave her own.

"The copilot wasn't checked out thoroughly enough, or his report was wrong. He attacked me unprovoked and then revealed the bomb strapped to himself. Relena is, as far as I know, unharmed, and it looks like Miss Mackenzie Strauch will survive."

Heero walked around his car door and crossed the short distance to stand in front of Relena.

The breath flew from Relena's lungs. She could just see the fine wrinkles of his brow, could see the smoothness of his lips…

Relena jolted as Heero's hands packed down on either of her shoulders. His hands traveled down her arms, his fingers applying the smallest amount of pressure to the fabric of her wool blazer. Her flesh tingled excitedly. He grabbed either of Relena's hands and flipped them over, his eyes boring holes into her skin.

Relena found her voice again when his hands moved to either side of her waist, and he began to move his hands up her sides.

"Excuse me!" she stepped away from him, pushing his trespassing hands away, "I have to ask you just what you think you are doing?"

He looked her in the eye as if everything was normal. "I was checking for injuries."

"You could have told me before you began molesting me!" Relena prayed to everything that he could not see the way her breasts had reacted to his hands on her body, or the blush she knew was threatening to burn her cheeks.

Heero's look darkened even more then when he had first stepped out of his car. She was wearing a thong.

"Heero, we need to discuss a course of action." Trowa shattered what was left of the fantasy, bringing Relena's feet to the ground.

The sounds of sirens resounded again, and Relena turned to see the ambulance start its drive to the nearest hospital. She took a step towards the retreating automobile.

"Ms. Peacecraft, whether you want to acknowledge it or not, your life is in potentially serious danger. We don't know if he was acting alone." His voice was so gruff.

"We need to get you out of the open as soon as possible, Relena."

Relena's eyes cast downward, her mind suddenly reeling. She hadn't really thought about her life yet.

"The area was secure when I left, Trowa. I plan on asking you later how it is exactly that you let some guy nearly kill the Foreign Minister."

Heero sent Trowa a searing look as he grabbed Relena's elbow, beginning to usher her towards his car. The fellow Gundam pilot seemed to take it in stride as he held the front seat forward for Relena.

* * *

Four and a half hours later three Gundam pilots, a Foreign Minister, and a video screen with an extremely stressed out looking Colonel were shoved into a small, enclosed room with no windows, one door, and four cups of bland, rapidly cooling coffee. 

"Seeing as our culprit is now bits of flesh and rubble we can't exactly distract from the fact that most of the blame lays in Preventers." Colonel Une massaged her temples, her eyes closed to the connection. "The public can't know about this—yet."

Relena stole a glance at Trowa. She'd been trying to speak in his defense as much as possible, but the others seemed set on blaming the now-silent soldier, standing by himself in the corner. His arms were crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall, his eyes closed to the room.

"I agree. This situation is too easily skewed as an attempt at a new war," Wufei was standing closest to the video screen, leaning over a manila folder sprawled open on the single table, "The fact that we couldn't inhibit this doesn't really instill the sense of security we've been trying to uphold." Records of a late spacecraft pilot stared up at the ceiling from the two-dimensional sheets, his data spilling everywhere.

Heero had been pacing sporadically for the last hour and a half. His comments had been sparse, and every once in awhile he would send Trowa a scalding look.

"What, exactly, did he say again Trowa?" Une's voice echoed in the room.

"That it was time for the colonies to start supporting themselves independently, and not abusing the Earth's resources." Heero cut in gruffly, though it didn't look like he was cutting off former pilot zero-three, "Or something to that effect," he added as an afterthought, shooting another scathing look at Trowa.

Relena's brow furrowed, as it did every time she heard that particular bit of news.

Heero stopped wearing tracks in the linoleum floor, "Regardless, the Foreign Minister needs to be in New York exactly one week from today."

"I'm well aware of the Peace Conference, Mr. Yuy," Une muttered.

"Preventers was hired to take care of the security measures," Wufei added, "We can't let the press think we're _all_ incompetent."

Relena stared into the black puddle at the bottom of her coffee cup.

"Is there any news on Mackenzie, yet?"

"No, Relena." Heero didn't look up when he spoke, but continued to pace the room. Relena sighed. She hoped that Quatre would go sailing without her…

There was a shuffling of papers from the video screen. "Look, until we know exactly who, or exactly why this…" Une looked to the files on her desk, the same ones which Wufei was poring over himself, "'Johan Skilzer', did what he did, there's nothing _we_ can do. I don't believe in trying to cover up what was done, so we won't. There was an electrical problem, and luckily the copilot thought just enough ahead to rescue the Foreign Minister." Relena fidgeted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable.

"Mr. Barton," the Gundam pilot lifted his head the fraction of an inch as she addressed him, "I hope you won't mind that I give this hero business to someone else. It's a bit below you, and I don't want one of my private agents suddenly blaring all over on the six o'clock news. Despite what your coworkers might wish, I don't want to let you go. I _do_ want you to take two weeks off, and then report back to my office September first, at nine am sharp."

Trowa nodded, barely.

"What we need to figure out now is how to get Ms. Peacecraft across the country. There's too much of a risk to go by shuttle."

"Quatre Winner is expecting her, correct?" Wufei looked at Une through the video screen. "I'm sure the bleeding heart liberal would _request_ to send a private shuttle."

"I'm sure he would," Une waved off his remark, "but I still would not authorize Ms. Peacecraft to board." She connected eyes with Wufei and Heero individually, "You're missing the point. Ms. Peacecraft cannot go by air, nor by any means of public transportation."

There was a pause throughout the room, the quiet broken only by the taps of Heero's heels.

Heero suddenly stopped, "You want her to drive across the country."

Relena started at the sound of Heero's voice right behind her. She looked up and saw the beautiful underside of his chin.

"But not alone."

Heero's stern look became impossible sterner. He resumed his pace.

Wufei misinterpreted. "I do _not_ have time to baby-sit," he growled.

"I think," Colonel Une said offhandedly, as she began to organize her papers, "That Mr. Yuy has a free week."

Relena froze.

"Ex—excuse me…?" Relena heard her hollow voice. She stood from her chair, her frame suddenly awkward and shaking, "You can'texpect me to—to—"She looked behind her to where Heero was walking back and forth, completely ignoring her. "That could take—days! I'm sure there must be another way."

"I'm afraid, Mrs. Peacecraft, that in situations of dire emergencies, you do not have a choice." Une looked off-screen as someone handed her a small scrap of paper.

"But—but this is my vacation! Quatre is expecting me!"

"Mr. Winner can be contacted. I'm sure the bleeding-heart-liberal will understand." Wufei smirked at the Colonel's reference, "Oh, it seems that Ms. Strauch is in stable condition. You can visit her at the Oakland hospital."

Relena sobered. She took a moment, and nodded at the screen.

Une finished filing her papers into one neat stack. "Mr. Yuy, I expect your travel plans to be on my personal server in less than two hours."

Heero nodded, and without a look to Relena, left the room. Wufei began to stuff the papers into the manila folder of his own. "I expect you want me back at headquarters, then?"

"You have eight hours, Mr. Chang." Wufei checked his walk and snorted. He started towards the door, nodding to the room as he turned.

"Always a pleasure, Trowa." He snarled, ignoring Relena as a pawn.

Relena turned to the video screen, giving the Colonel a weak smile as she leaned to turn off the link. Une held up her hand to stop her.

"Miss Peacecraft," she took off her glasses to address the woman, "I'm sorry for all this. First, that we didn't tell you how closely we were ensuring your protection, and second, that we couldn't do all that we are capable of. If you wish to file a complaint, I can promise that it will be placed on my personal desk right away."

Relena offered a slightly stronger smile, "No, it's fine. I'm sorry as well. I didn't know I was so much trouble."

The colonel's set expression didn't change, "I'll instruct Mr. Yuy to make your vacation as comfortable as possible."

Relena became subdued. She nodded, her expression blank, and reached the extra inch to turn off the screen. Une's face blinked into one horizontal line and disappeared. The room was suddenly deadly quiet. Relena's face turned downward, her hair hiding the better part of her features. She…didn't know what to think. Fortunately, Trowa was still in the room.

"Come on, I can take you to the hospital."

Relena didn't turn. She nodded numbly.

* * *

"So I don't know what to do now. It looks like I'll be spending a week in a small car with Heero…Heero Yuy." She choked on his name. 

Relena looked to the woman on the bed, enveloped in pristine white sheets and plastic tubing. Everything was humming and smelled like disinfectant.

"It was so odd to see him again all of a sudden. So..out of place, I suppose. Unexpected." She took a shuddering breath against the pressure afflicting her chest. "You should have seen him…he barely looked at me. He probably thinks I'm disgusting now, with how rashly I acted."

Relena took her lip into her mouth with her teeth.

"I'm sorry this happened," she breathed. Her voice echoed off the walls. "I'm sorry for everything."

She sniffed against the wetness of her nose and eyes. The steady _beep_ of the machinery let her know the woman was still living.

"I'm just so…afraid." A mutinous tear let itself fall down her cheek. She already felt so drained, and still…

Relena brought a folded hand to her mouth, trying to control her emotion. She couldn't stop her head from falling forward, as tears began to run.

"I'm so afraid I might still love him."

* * *

Trowa drove her to the small motel on the edge of town. Heero was already there, his black sports car sitting in the nearly deserted lot. 

Relena was exhausted, not having been able to sleep in their silent car ride. She had barely noticed the interior of the Preventer-supplied transport, all the colors of the west coast seeming to blend together unattractively. She knew he wouldn't acknowledge her presence when she stepped from the automobile, so when she saw his eyes trained on Trowa, who stepped from the car first, her heart did not break.

Heero nodded at his ex-fellow Gundam pilot and started walking towards him. Relena noticed how overcast the sky was, the rays from the moon highlighting the outlines of billowing clouds.

She heard the muffled voices of Trowa and Heero exchanging conversation, but Relena didn't listen in. How could one day turn out like this?

"—Relena?"

Relena's head lolled to the two men. They were giving her curious expressions. Trowa stepped towards her.

"Are you all right?"

Relena blinked. She smiled. "Yes, I'm fine, Mr. Barton. I was wondering if I could trouble you for the whereabouts of my room? I'm a bit tired."

Trowa's face set. She could tell he hadn't bought her ruse.

"I'll show you to it." Heero's curt voice broke in. Relena looked to the other, but found his eyes unreadable.

* * *

"I'm going to check on you every forty minutes. If anything should happen to you in that span of time, you are to make as much noise as possible. That door," he gestured to the panel connecting their motel rooms, "is to remain open at all times." 

Relena sat on the edge of her large motel bed, her face turned towards the ground. She punctuated her movements with a nod every once in awhile, but couldn't bring herself to really pay attention to what Heero was saying.

"We leave tomorrow at 0600."

Heero paused. He had been talking at her for the last ten minutes, and she still hadn't looked at him once since he came in. Something about this frustrated him. For some reason he needed her to look at him.

"Do you…have any questions." His statement trailed off. He wasn't sure if he'd ever asked that before, and he didn't like to think he had been unclear.

Relena shook her head but didn't look at him.

Heero shifted his weight to his left foot. Her yellow hair fell loosely from over her shoulder, hiding the better part of her face. He felt the frustration build even more. From what he could see, she looked…what, sad? Upset? Probably upset. Heero looked around the room, at anything but her. The room was secure, he had seen to that. There were two security cameras set up at either entrance to the room (window or door), plus a wire…_**Fuck**, how could one day go so wrong?_

Heero stole one last glance at Relena, and left the room.

* * *

Taa-daa! It's finally started! Got the ball rolling! Gathering no moss!

So this is chapter one. I'm thinking…seven chapters? Maybe eight? Each chapter will be a day on the road, and, well, we all know committed Heero is to completing his mission.

Don't know how soon I'll be able to crank everything out but still…I'm looking for a beta reader! Editor! Someone ;; There was a lot in this draft which I didn't like so much, but left it in anyway, thinking maybe I had some innate artistic talent…but, you know, I'm probably wrong. ;

Thank you for reading!

-Ali


	2. Coffee and Jazz

THE OPEN ROAD

(Chapter Two)

by AliLamba

* * *

Relena often had problems sleeping, so as she felt herself stirring awake while her room was still completely dark, she tried her best to fight against her raising lids. 

Until blurry vision snapped onto the image of blood-shot, baggy eyed, sullen cheeked Heero Yuy.

Relena screamed and jumped backwards in bed.

"Get up." Heero was unfazed by her sudden leap.

Relena was shaking, clutching the sheet to her chest despite being fully clothed. "Didn't you," she gulped, trying to regain her bearings, "sleep?"

"Hn." Heero started towards the door adjoining their rooms.

Relena's brow furrowed. "You could have _asked_ me to get up, you know."

Heero made another noncommittal noise as he disappeared around the wall.

Relena let out an audible breath. She looked around the room, allowing all the memories of yesterday fall back into place. She brought a hand to her head to massage the last traces of sleep from her mind, most of them having gone running at her sudden awakening.

Relena checked her wristwatch. Sounds of Heero rummaging about his room filtered through the walls.

Relena groaned.

It was 5:30.

In the morning.

Relena let her head fall back to stare at the ceiling. That was…uuugh…four hours of sleep? Four and a half? Relena toyed with the idea of taking a five-minute shower, and having to put back on the same clothes she'd been wearing since yesterday.

One whiff of herself and Relena rushed to the bathroom.

She had barely twisted the hot water knob, closing the door behind her with her foot, when there was a pounding on the door.

"You don't have time." A gruff voice called through the faux-wood. Relena sighed and glanced again at the ceiling.

"Then you should have woken me earlier." She called, obstinately.

There was a pause.

"You don't have time."

Relena glared at the door and adjusted the water temperature. He could break it down if he wanted to, but Relena highly doubted he wanted to see her even partially naked. Relena began to hum to herself as she undressed, folding her clothes neatly on the top of the toilet. She let herself past the cheap plastic curtain quickly when she saw steam begin to billow around the ceiling.

For five minutes Relena let herself completely relax. She lathered, rinsed, and repeated without a thought of the man right outside the door, or her anxiety over Mackenzie's health, which had kept her up the night before. She felt no guilt on behalf of Trowa, who had saved her life and still received blame.

By the time she was toweling off and putting her clothes (ugh) back on, Relena was in what she could identify as an "all right mood".

All, of course, deflated, when she swung the door open, getting an eyeful of Heero sitting, pissy as usual, on the bed directly in front of her. She walked to the mirror instead, padding her hair dry as she walked.

"You deliberately disobeyed me, Ms. Peacecraft."

Relena sighed and put down the towel, resting her weight on the hands she laid on the counter. "You may call me, Relena, Mr. Yuy. I feel as if we have known each other that long." She looked at him through his reflection in the mirror.

Heero turned his head away.

Relena felt the desperation creeping in again, the need to feel affection. She smashed it down.

"Is there any coffee?" She tried to lighten the mood.

Heero seemed to start again. He nearly jumped from the bed, walking past her to his room.

"There would have been. You made your choice."

* * *

Relena sat on the black leather seat, in the small black sports car. She had managed a cup of bland coffee and a paper in the motel office as they checked out for the night, much to Heero's dismay (he seemed intent on keeping her a secret, so she just _loved_ the face she got from him as she peeped cheerfully into the lobby while he was at the desk). The man behind the counter had raised his eyebrows when they returned two keys, but his eyes seemed to have been too bloodshot to recognize the Foreign Minister. 

Relena closed her eyes and placed her finger over the drinking hole of her coffee cup as the tires squeaked, skidding around another hairpin turn. He was completely mad. He must be.

She was trying desperately to read the paper and ignore Mr. Heero Yuy, too terrified of their close proximity to even attempt sleep. Relena found herself much more anxious about the day's headlines than how Heero hovered around 90 miles an hour through the curvy mountain roads. While not a patient driver, he was a good one.

Relena reread another sentence about crop failures in the northwestern former United States.

_Screeeeech!_

Relena's jaw set. She poignantly put down her paper and looked out the window, to the early-morning landscape that was once California. It was beautiful even through the haze—tall green trees covered arresting mountains as far as she could see.

* * *

Nevada was gross. 

Heero cursed as he saw _another_ sign for roadwork ahead, knowing full well there wouldn't be any active construction when he got there, and he was supposed to slow down anyway.

He preferred the colonies.

And breasts.

Heero steeled himself as he tightened his hold on the steering wheel. He didn't like not being able to understand himself, something that often occurred when in the Foreign Minister's presence. He resisted glancing at her from the corner of his eye. It must be something about her smell. She must rub herself in something that is meant to distract me.

Heero's attention was caught by the rearview mirror, as a dark red sedan swung into view for a moment before receding into the background. Heero's brow furrowed. That car looked familiar…

* * *

Three hours later Relena fidgeted in her seat, trying to fit her skirt farther down her thigh. She hated skirts. She hated blouses. She hated—she _hated_ high heels. 

She did not like Heero's car.

Relena cast a sidelong glance at Heero again. As ever, his gaze was unwavering of the road in front of him. Relena chewed on her inner cheek, trying to decide if she wanted to attempt small talk again.

"_So, how have…you been?"_

_She was met with silence._

"_Do you have a job?"_

_More silence._

"_Any…friends? Pets?"_

_Nothing but the quiet whirring of the engine._

"_Have you seen any good movies lately?"_

"_Books?"_

"_Music?"_

_Relena gritted her teeth. "Is there a reason you're ignoring me?"_

_Heero didn't spare her a glance, "I don't like chitchat. I could have said 'peanut fuck' to all those questions and it wouldn't have mattered."_

_Relena blinked. She opened her mouth, about to respond, but she was suddenly…at a loss for words._

…_Peanut fuck?_

Relena didn't realize she was staring until she found two Prussian blue eyes staring back. Relena jumped an inch and quickly averted her gaze out the window. _Oh goodness, that was embarrassing._ She felt heat start to rise in her cheeks as she began to fiddle with the hem of her skirt.

The air became thick with tension.

She heard a slight cough, and fought the urge to turn around. There was a beep, and then the soft melody of a song long gone filtered to Relena's ears.

A solo trumpet, backed up by a brass orchestra….

Relena's eyes fell on Heero's satellite radio. Was that…_jazz_? She turned to look at Heero's profile, her jaw slack and gaping.

Heero saw her move towards him again, and despite her completely shocked expression, something inside him..was quieted.

He stole a sidelong glance at her. He was uncomfortable.

"What." He grumbled.

She seemed to awake from her stupor. "Heero…what is that?"

Heero's brow furrowed. He shifted in his seat. "It's music."

Her mouth curved up into a smile, "Well, I know that, Heero. Does this mean…you have a hobby?"

He turned his head for a moment to face her. He didn't like that expression. He felt vulnerable. He didn't know what to say.

"He's dead." Heero gestured lamely to the speakers.

Relena laughed. This couldn't help but be noted. "Yes, I know that Heero. What is this…Miles Davis?"

"1957. 'The Duke'." Year and song.

Relena nodded, turning towards the window again.

"Miles Ahead," she named the album.

Heero spared her another glance, quiet descending once again as they let the soft music overwhelm them. Heero was fighting the engulfing…feeling that came with the way she was suddenly leaning back in her chair so comfortably, a slight smile playing on her lips as she gazed at the scenery. He had to force himself to be more alert to the situation.

It was at that particular moment something again caught his eye in the rearview mirror, something that he had seen too many times before.

Heero clenched his jaw.

Relena managed the first syllable of a scream as she was suddenly thrown against her seatbelt—Heero throwing the car completely 180 degrees into the other lane. He gunned the engine and managed it to sixty in less than two seconds.

Relena grabbed the armrests and turned wildly at Heero.

"What are you doing!"

Heero either didn't hear her or didn't care. He jabbed his hand behind his back and retrieved a pistol, hitting a button to roll the window down automatically and quickly.

They were closing in on the sedan, and the sedan had finally noticed them. It swerved around again into the other lane, intent on trying to outrun Heero.

But no one could outrun the perfect soldier.

_Not even Relena…_

Heero leaned himself out the window and aimed his gun. He blasted the two rear tires, sending sparks as the car insisted on trying to escape.

Heero ducked back inside and pushed the gas petal to the ground. Within a second he had come along side the sedan, and he used this to swerve in front, eliciting a high _SCREECH_ as the driver slammed on the breaks.

Heero threw the emergency brake on and immediately jumped form the car, gun trained on the drivers window.

"Get out of the car!" Heero yelled murderously, and he fired at the windshield, only cracking the bulletproof glass from the passenger side.

He heard his own car door open, and the click of a high heel against the pavement.

"Heero Yuy—are you insane?.!"

"Not now, Relena." Heero growled, "Get back in the car now or I will be forced to shove you in there myself."

Relena ruffled indignantly. She walked purposefully around the car, pushing Heero's gun down with her hand as she passed him on her way to the driver-side-door of the dark sedan. Sparing him a meaningful glance, Relena knocked politely on the glass and put on her best smile.

"Hello?" she called through the tinted window, "Hi, I'm sorry about my companion. I know he didn't mean to startle you, or cause damage to your automobile, but I assure you it will all be taken care—"

Relena stepped back as the door swung open, and a tall man with rust-brown hair stepped out. His face was masked by the signature bang that gave him away immediately.

"Trowa?"

His hard glare was set on Heero, who had risen his gun again when the door opened. He lifted his hands as the sign of surrender.

"Trowa," Heero spat, his aim becoming ever truer.

Relena shook her head in confusion. "I don't understand," she said, trying to attract either of the men's attention, "What are you doing here, Mr. Barton?"

"He was following us," Heero cut in. His insides were becoming hot. He couldn't explain nor could repress the feeling, as much as he tried in the split seconds he was afforded.

"Heero, for heavens sake, put down your gun." He spared a glace at the woman, hands on hips, giving him a reprimanding expression. He holstered his weapon, but not without longingly thumbing the safety first.

"Are you all right, Relena?" Trowa spoke for the first time. He elicited a soft smile from her. Heero's insides began to burn.

"Yes, I'm fine, Trowa. Though I can't say I'm not a bit confused. Weren't you supposed to be taking some time off?"

Trowa touched her. On the arm. With his hand. So casually. Heero wished there was something in his hands to rip to shreds.

"I just wanted to make sure you were in good hands."

"She's in _very_ good hands." Heero made himself known. Relena seemed to start when she saw him again, which quickly changed to a completely bewildered expression. Heero checked himself. He forced himself to relax his stance. "So you can," he cleared his throat, "Go now, Trowa." Heero looked nervously at Relena. She still looked totally perplexed. "So, you know, go on."

Trowa didn't seem as fazed. "It doesn't look as if you've been feeding her well." He looked Relena over. Heero took an unconscious step forward. "Relena, would you like to get some lunch?"

She smiled kindly. Heero noticed his step forward and tried to lean casually against the car, but, forgetting the door was open, nearly fell inside.

"That sounds very nice, Mr. Barton." She accepted his offered arm.

"It is my wish that you address me informally, Miss." He ushered her to his humming car, before remembering the two shot tires. The acrobat suddenly seemed to remember Heero, who was busy disentangling himself from the seatbelt.

"There was a place just up the street. I don't think it will be up to your standards, but hopefully we can find something."

Relena just missed Heero's escape. Her smile turned warmer, "Oh, I'm sure any place you like would be just fine."

* * *

Half an hour later, Heero was pissed. Not only was his untouched steak medium-_rare_ and not _medium_, but he was currently being completely ignored by the two people he was accompanied by, who were engaged in quite animated conversation. 

Heero growled under his breath as Relena giggled _again_ at something…"the other one" said.

Relena seemed to hear him. She brought away the hand holding her fork from her moistened mouth.

"Is something wrong, Heero?"

Heero mumbled something incoherent. Relena looked at him for a second longer, and Heero didn't miss the split second of her stare awash in sadness. She turned to Trowa, and shrugged, conveying innocently some sort of inside joke that Heero didn't understand. Trowa broke out a broad smile.

Relena dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin, and moved to stand.

"If you will excuse me, gentlemen…" she nodded to each of them, and headed to the women's restroom. Heero and Trowa watched her leave, though Heero noticed Trowa staring before the opposite could occur.

"It seems that even you couldn't put a dent in her demeanor." Trowa returned to his salad with salmon.

Heero sneered. "She hasn't almost been blown up yet, so I'd say she's fine."

Trowa's fork stopped midway to his mouth for the briefest moment, but the former Gundam pilot did not look up. He rested his fork on his plate quietly.

"She hates this. I should take her."

Heero's expression darkened. "I believe I outrank you, Mr. Barton."

Trowa glared at his plate. "Captain."

"You know it is within my power to order you to leave."

Trowa caught Heero's eyes.

"We could ask her what she wants."

"I believe I know what's best for the Foreign Minister."

Trowa's mouth opened, poised for response. But he seemed to think better of it. Perhaps he was thinking of the tenterhooks he was already on because of botching the last mission. Heero was positive he didn't feel pity for the fellow Preventer.

"I think you should go now." Heero knew his face was cool, his stance poised.

Trowa too easily showed that he was pissed. To outsiders his face was blank; a mask, but it was there. Heero could tell.

"I think I should say good-bye to Relena. It is only polite."

"No, I think you should leave now."

Trowa calmly picked up his cloth napkin, and wiped his mouth. He laid it down on the table next to his silverware, and stood from the table.

"I never knew you to be the jealous type, Heero."

Heero panicked, inexplicably.

"That's Captain to you," he emphasized his rank with a hiss, drawing the attention of the closest table. Trowa's eyes smoldered as he stared at him.

"_Captain_," Trowa reached inside his jacket for a small velvet box, which he promptly threw at the head of his former counterpart. His fellow Preventer wasn't expecting the assault, the package smacking him square on the temple. Heero inwardly blanched, but did not move otherwise, as he picked the box from where it landed on the table, "I wish I didn't have the decency to have held on to this for you. Maybe next time you won't be coward enough to do it yourself."

Heero pushed himself roughly from his chair. He clenched the small package in his fist and glared down the other, willing him to self-destruct. No such thing happened, and Trowa spun on his heel and left the restaurant.

Relena reached the table just as the front door shut. She was looking confusedly from the door to Heero, who was still glaring at the swinging object as if he wished it at the bottom of the ocean, tied to four or five tons of Gundanium.

"Where's Trowa?"

Heero wasn't startled by her presence. He had heard the pattern of her footfalls from the moment she stepped from the ladies' room.

"Urgent business. Says he's not sorry."

Relena's brow furrowed. Something wasn't right.

* * *

Do you like this? I know I meant to have one chapter equal a day on the road, but the second part wasn't working right, and I want to give it some good effort. Plus, midterms are this week, so I knew I wouldn't be able to get much time to look. Two exams and a 5-6 pg paper on the "mirror stage" and the villain! 

Special thanks to takisha16, who sparked the fodder/need for more of those juicy jealous moments. Maybe Heero was a bit of a jerk? Ah well. Anyway, I'm off to midterms! Ooo, the best part about being in college!

Thank you for reading! –Ali


	3. Salt and Snails

THE OPEN ROAD: chapter three

by the AliLamba

* * *

Back in the car and still in Nevada. 

Relena tapped her fingers on the armrest in rhythm with the Fats Domino tune. She was bored. Very bored.

She sighed heavily and looked around the interior of the car. What to do? Relena picked up her newspaper, turning it to the (boring) sports page. She flipped the pages, scanning but not absorbing. She put down the paper.

"Where are we headed?"

Heero's upper body was hunched over the steering wheel, his whole body tense.

"New York."

Relena's shoulders dropped.

"I meant today."

He glanced at her.

"Salt Lake City."

Relena nodded and turned to look out the window. She had never been to a salty lake before. Her eyes caught on to various traffic signs until—

"Reno…? The biggest…little city on earth?" Relena unconsciously skewed her face after reading the sign. She turned to Heero with a hopeful expression. "Can we go there, Heero? I've never been there." She smiled at him.

Heero didn't look in her direction. "No."

Relena's face fell. "But it's right there. I only want to drive through it."

"Relena, there is a purpose to this venture. We don't have time to stop every time you get an impulse."

He hit a nerve.

"I didn't mean for things to turn out the way they did, Heero. But this is supposed to be enjoyable, am I not correct?" her voice came a bit snobbier than she intended, but Relena ignored the slight pang of guilt.

Heero grunted and shifted his position.

"Then we might as well make the tiniest detour." Relena returned her attention to the upcoming on-ramp expectantly. _How can it be big and little at the same time? I wonder if they have foot-long hotdogs. Or maybe they're only half a foot, but the bun is really big!_ Relena hummed in pleasant excitement as the exit drew nearer…and nearer…and next…and right along side…and…

"Heero, wait, you're going to—"

…and past…

"—miss…it." Relena's mouth fell open as she looked sadly at the retreating off-ramp.

"Woops. What do you know." Heero deadpanned. He was still irrationally pissed about lunch. Heero could acknowledge this. Feeling the small box in his jacket pocket as he took another turn, Heero bristled all over again. Yeah, so he could tell he was being irrational. But he didn't really care.

* * *

The Foreign Minister was unusually quiet after that, Heero noticed four hours later, driving through Salt Flats. So much so, that he felt the urge to point out Bonneville Speedway, where an automobile broke the sound barrier for the first time. The inner conflict that resulted ended up coming out as: 

"Boone-car sound," which sounded retarded even to Heero's ears. He was silently relieved that she didn't turn around from where she was staring out the window.

By the time they were on the outskirts of the former Utah's former capitol, Heero could identify a pang of guilt somewhere deep in his gut. Or it could be hunger. Heero thought it was hunger. But then there was the way she hadn't looked at him for the last couple hundred miles, and he could identify some sort of connection with that and his gut. Her aloofness bothered him. He felt…bad. Relena hadn't meant for this to happen, and this was supposed to be her vacation.

And he was better than Trowa.

_What do you mean, "She's not happy."_

He saw his chance when Relena unconsciously awed at the signs pointing out the legendary Salt Lake. The destination was actually Evanston, a small trucking city 82.84 miles past, but only an hour's drive. Heero checked the time, and made the quick calculations. They _were_ early…

It was all he could do not to grit his teeth as he maneuvered into the slow lane to get off the highway. She would probably like to see the damn puddle. Women liked puddles. He thought. Right? Heero gave up trying to guess and turned on his blinker, indicating the detour.

Relena looked over at him with her brow knitted.

"Heero?"

His spine…itched at the sound of her voice. Heero shifted in his seat.

"We got here earlier than I expected. I want to stretch my legs."

Relena frowned at her driver, if not a little uncomfortably. They really had only stopped for gas since lunch, and it was still daylight. Shrugging to herself, Relena turned back to the roadside. With luck, he would stop close enough to the water for Relena to just dip her toes in…It was such a legendary lake; she wanted to just touch it…

Heero stopped at the t-intersection he found off the one road from the highway. He didn't think this was really a place for tourists, but he had no intention of trying to meander his ways through Salt Lake City, which lay a few exits ahead. Heero eased the car to the left, assuring himself that they could find shoreline with his better-than-an-eagle-scout instincts.

He found…something.

Heero stood from the car, trying to ignore the awful-smelling quarry across the highway. Relena followed not fifteen seconds later, the interest in her eyes was not lost to her chauffer as she began to walk unconsciously towards the lake. Heero shoved his hands in his jean pockets as he closed his door and strode around the car. Her eyes were alight with curiosity, looking for a way down to the beach.

She walked to a cement landing overlooking the watery expanse. He watched as she inspected the ground—a seal of some Olympic games was graved upon it. She threw a look over her shoulder, connecting eyes with her equally silent partner before heading to the metal rails lining the platform. Taking deliberate steps, Heero came to stand a couple steps behind her.

She looked nice; Heero let himself admit to himself. The wind played with the little bits of her hair, still tied up in a bun at the nape of her neck. Her smile was easy in the face of the wind.

Suddenly Heero felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Excurze me," Heero turned to see a tourist—all neon clothes and fanny packs, thrusting a camera in his face. His beaming family stood behind him.

Heero glanced back at Relena, catching her softly smiling face. She shrugged.

"Uh…yeah, sure." Heero offered, making a deft grab for the contraption.

"Oooh! Thank you! Thankyou-thankyou!"

The family assembled by Relena, who moved gracefully to the out of their way. They insisted on posing four different times, and Heero was about to lose his patience, when the father figure approached him. He beamed and accepted the camera, pausing only briefly before fixing the former Gundam pilot with a curious expression.

"FFoto?" he pointed at Heero, and then at Relena, drawing a parallel between them, "Ffffoto?" he repeated. Heero glanced at the Foreign Minister, seeing her confusion blatant on her features. Her hair was looser now, after being subject to the wind; her cheeks were tinted rose. Without letting himself think, Heero acted for the first time in years on his instinct.

"Sure," was his collected response, and Heero reached in his back pocket and withdrew the tiny spy camera from seemingly nowhere, "Don't break it."

Relena's face was still exuding bewilderment as Heero steered her towards where the family had posed themselves moments before. When he released her elbow, turning towards the cameraman, Relena turned her look upwards at his stoic face. He caught her eye.

"What," was his grunt. Relena was stunned. Was he actually…trying? She shook her head to displace her shock. If this was all she was going to get from him, then might as well make the best of it!

Relena latched onto his arm, raising a delicate hand in a "peace" gesture. She felt him stiffen inside his skin.

"Ookay!" the tourist yelled, "On-too-PHREE!"

There was a little flash, and Relena released his arm. Heero unconsciously drifted towards her as she walked to the other man and retrieved his camera.

He watched as she smiled winningly and thanked the family, and said goodbye. When they were on their way back to their own vehicle, Relena's blue eyes turned on him.

"Since we're here, we might as well touch it, right?" her innocent smile turned expectant, and she turned to the small dock. Heero grinned.

He thought he was so smooth until a look of pure disgust crawled over her features.

"What is it," he questioned, stepping closer to the pier. He soon saw the object of her repulsion—hovering six inches off the water and the surrounding banks was a blanket of flies, all buzzing furiously in clumps. Heero felt bile at the back of his throat.

"I don't think this is where they mean for tourists to go, Heero," Relena pointed out, inspecting the water's edge. She was overcome with a fit of girlishness. "Heero, won't you touch it, please? Then I can touch your foot, and it'll still be touching the water!"

Heero gawked openly at her. Was she serious? Disease alone would keep him two feet away, let alone that they were gross and foul smelling. The pleading look on her face let him know she was serious.

"No _way_."

"Please Heero?" she drew out the "please" as long as she could. Her pink tongue licked her lips. This couldn't help but be noticed.

Heero tried to stare her down, drawing out a "no" in his mind as long as was humanly possible.

But then her lower lip protruded—just the fraction of an inch.

The grumbles flew from Heero's mouth in a furious murmur as he leaned to untie his shoe. He missed how her eyes suddenly lit up, but they were glowing when he stood, and leaned his big toe into the disgusting green-brown lake. She practically squeaked when she touched her own toe to his.

The merriment of the moment hung in the air around them when they were back into the car, and Relena's mood wasn't even dented as they left Salt Lake City. She chatted idly for the next hour about her brother and Noin, and (though Heero already knew this) his hopeful return trip to Earth. She smiled wistfully when she spoke of their marriage, performed in a private ceremony—just the two of them and the minister through vid-com. Her giggles echoed through the automobile when she mentioned that it looked like it was Milliardo who was pressuring _Noin_ to have children. She cooed at the picturesque scenery—noted how much it looked like a jigsaw puzzle.

Unbeknownst to Heero's greater judgment, there was something reticent of a smile on his face when he got out of the car, at the cheap motel they found in former Evanston. They walked together to the desk inside, their dispositions so that not even the stench of cheap alcohol and cigarettes could undermine them.

"You want a room?" the woman behind the counter looked as if her skin were hanging off her bones. Her face was violently colored with make up; her hair died a shocking color of orange. Heero tried to hide his immediate distrust.

"Two," he responded curtly, reaching for his wallet.

"How many hours," the woman responded, her voice bored. Heero's head snapped up when he heard her. Did she really think…? His gaze shot to Relena, who looked absolutely horrified. Suddenly defensive, Heero felt his face grow darker. Would it really be completely horrible to be in a situation like that with him? He didn't know—didn't care why it bothered him, but it did.

"All night."

She rattled off an amount, and Heero searched his wallet for the bills.

"Is internet included in that," he mumbled. It didn't look like the woman was even looking at him.

"No internet, sir." Was her nasal reply.

Heero froze. _Exc…excuse me?_

"No internet," he repeated.

"Nooo internet."

"None."

"No wireless, no dialup, no nothing."

Heero didn't miss a beat, "I, uh, left my wallet in the car," he responded frantically, ignoring the fact he was clutching the small leather pocket in his fist. He spun on his heel and grabbed Relena's arm, steering her quickly towards the exit. He didn't notice her skipping to keep up.

"Heero, it wouldn't be that terrible. I mean, it's just a computer."

Heero froze for the second time in a minute, right outside the motel-lobby door.

"Just…a computer," he gave her a you-live-under-a-rock look with his eyes, and continued to the car.

* * *

Four motels, and three drives around town later, Heero was tapping his credit card angrily against the posh marble counter of the brand new resort. Everything in this bum city was either full or without necessary conveniences. They were on a budget, yes, but tonight they would be forced to splurge. Relena was sitting in one of the plush armchairs, flipping through a magazine she picked up from the glass coffee table. 

The man with the pencil-thin mustache behind the computer had already decided he disliked the man in front of him. He was having to restrain the look of disgust from the man's dirty fingernails and five-o-clock shadow as he left dust all over his polished desk.

"We have only two rooms available this evening, monsieur. One, with two queen beds, and one, with one king size bed and a luxurious marble Jacuzzi bath-rub."

The deskman looked at Heero expectantly, "I am assuming you will take the latter, for you and the mademoiselle?"

Heero opened his mouth, poised to refute and berate the man with the stupid mustache. But then he thought of something. The odd look he received from the deskman earlier that morning…the tourist at the lake…it wouldn't be exactly wrong to go along with the whole, er, what was the word… "couple" thing. It was a suitable cover up. He glanced at Relena's profile out of the corner of his eye, noticing her absorbed in some sort of political journal. He turned back to the pompous ass.

"Yeah, we'll take the king."

"Oui, monsieur, oui. Now, will you be paying with paper, check, or credi—" the doorman seemed to suddenly inhale all the air in the room with a vicious gasp.

"Miss—Miss Peacecraft!"

Heero spun his head around to see Relena striding towards them. She stuck mid-step when she heard her formal name, and her eyes snapped to the employee's.

Heero almost panicked. He needed something—anything. Did he have his gun? Where was his gun? Relena might scold him later, but he needed to use his gun.

"Third time today!" he heard a cheerful voice coming from behind him. Was that…Relena? "I'm sorry to disappoint you, sir, but I'm afraid that's not me. I do get it all the time," he heard the smile in her voice, and felt her presence by his side. Heero turned his face to catch her weak smile.

The deskman's face turned completely sour.

"Oh," he said disdainfully, and reached for the small amount of paperwork, "if you will just fill this out here, I will get your room key."

"Room key…?" Relena emphasized the fact that it was singular, and turned expectantly to Heero, who was reaching for a pen.

"Yes…" Heero struggled to find the word. It was something sweet, he knew it, "Rhubarb."

He heard a choking sound coming from Relena's direction, and caught her eyes watering out of the corner of his eye. She seemed to be breathing, as evidenced by her shaking shoulders and the heavy inhales he could hear. He decided to ignore it.

* * *

He surveyed the room. Relena seemed completely comfortable, already sitting on the corner of the plush mattress with the magazine from the lobby in hand. She was massaging her right ankle. The window faced east, he would have to secure that. There was no fire escape, and only one sensible portal out. The bathroom had no access—the air vent had been nailed over with plywood from the bottom of a dresser drawer, which would suffice should anyone try to leak in toxic fumes. The bathtub was big enough to accommodate two grown adults. 

Very much grown adults. With nice breasts.

Heero reigned in his abnormally wandering train of thought.

"Are we really going to _share_ a bed, Heero?" her voice filtered into his ears.

"The ground will be sufficient." As if to emphasize, Heero brushed his shoed foot over the carpeting.

"We could hire a cot for the night," Relena suggested.

"We're undercover, Relena. That would be too suspicious."

"I'm not going to let you sleep on the ground." She gave him a sardonic look.

"It's not a big deal. I have slept on worse surfaces."

"Heero…" she turned her head away, insinuating that the matter would be brought up later. Her eyes came to rest on the television remote, and she picked it up.

Heero went into the bathroom to splash water on his face. Just being in a bedroom again was enough to make him sleepy. And a bedroom with a woman in it did funny things to his brain.

"How about a movie?" she called to him over the rush of the faucet, "A movie and room service?"

His brown mop poked through the bathroom door, "You can do what you want."

He just missed the way she rolled her eyes in his direction, and picked out a romantic comedy. Something about…mixed up servers, or something.

She picked up the phone and dialed the kitchen.

"Heero?" she called while it was ringing. He didn't respond, "Heero?" the rush of a showerhead was her response, and she noticed the bathroom door was still open. Her cheeks turned furiously pink.

"Le cuisine," someone answered. Relena corrected in her mind with "la".

"Yes, hello. I was looking to order room service?"

"Yeess…"

"Could I have a house salad sent to room," she rattled off the number, sparing a glance at the bathroom, "and a platter of whatever the chef recommends?"

"Oui, madame." The line was broken before Relena had the chance to say thank you. She was spared thinking about the consequences when her movie began.

She didn't notice when the shower stopped running, but she did turn when she heard the resounding knock on the hotel room door. She moved to get off the bed—and immediately froze.

Heero Yuy wandered out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel. A tiny, white, cotton towel. She gawked as he opened the door casually and moved to let the employee enter. He wheeled the cart inside a fraction, allowing Heero enough time to fish a couple of bills from his wallet. The man left content. Heero finally turned to the one who had ordered, and regarded her flushed face, staring vehemently into her lap.

"What is all this," he crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned to expect the food, noting the bottle of red that came with it.

"Uhhm…" her voice was barely audible, "Do you think you could…"

Heero gave her a sharp look. If he had a pet peeve, it would be people who couldn't speak up.

"Never mind," Relena stood from the bed and walked to the cart, lifting the dome covering their meals. One was her salad, complete with four choices of salad dressing, and the other…was…escargots. She looked at Heero with an apologetic face. Heero was giving the meal a guarded look.

"You ordered for me?"

"I didn't know…"

Heero plopped down on the edge of the bed and lifted the plate to his lap.

"Heero, you don't have to eat that. I mean, we can order something else…"

"It's fine, Relena."

"But…those are snails." His eyes noted the obvious.

"Just pour me a big glass of whatever's in that bottle." He gestured to the wine, and Relena found herself surprised by its presence. She uncorked it and poured two glasses, turning when she heard the soft slurp of something ingesting a snail.

A natural smile spread over her face at the site. Heero Yuy, Gundam pilot, was hungry.

They watched the movie, side by side on the edge of the bed. Relena had missed a major chunk of the middle, but it didn't seem to matter. They finished their meals and the bottle of wine in relative silence, which continued after the film had stopped. When the last credit rolled, Relena turned to the man still beside her. He was sitting ramrod straight, though his eyes had a glazed look to them.

"We can share the bed, Heero," she leaned in closer than perhaps she had ever dared to, and was onslaught with his scent, "I won't bite."

Heero cast a sidelong glance down at her, "I'll be fine."

Her brow furrowed, "Heero, I'm not going to let you. You might as well accept that now, so that I don't have to prove it to you."

Heero's face darkened in thought. Relena hiccupped.

"Relena, you're drunk."

"I am not," she said indignantly, trying to raise herself on her own two feet, but trembling dangerously.

Heero checked his wristwatch, "You should get to bed. I want to leave by 0800."

Relena was giving him a dangerous look.

"Heero, you will get in bed right now or so help me…" Heero stood and wandered to the bathroom, set on putting on some decent clothes. Relena hmphed at his departure, and spun to sit on the left edge of the bed, her back to the bathroom. She felt her eyes start to drift shut almost immediately, but forced them to stay open. Why did it all of a sudden seem to be such a long day? She didn't feel herself wobble, but noticed that when two hands gripped her shoulders, she was halfway to the mattress.

"I'm going to force you to lay down now, Relena," the voice attached to the clothed body said. She hmphed again, though she didn't know why. The hands pushed her torso gently onto the covers, and picked up her feet to lay them on the bedspread. Relena stirred when she felt the softness of the pillow.

"Heero…" the hands froze, mostly because of whispery tone of the voice. Relena used most of the energy she had left to open her eyes, and find Heero's.

"Please?"

His mind was in sudden turmoil. Everything but his brain was moving towards the bed, moving to throw himself on top of Relena and encompass everything that was her. For the second time that day, he ignored all logic.

"All right, fine."

* * *

Huzzah! Thank you for reading! and PLEASE REVIEW! Honestly, it's absolutely _lovely_ that people are still reading this fic, and that so many of you are continuing to do so, and I _**adore**_ the people who've reviewed already, but...I really would love to hear what you think (allyou silent lovlies) and go read my other fic! "Blue Moon"! I worked really hard;.; -Ali 

Next chapter: to Wyoming! What is in the box? When will we know? What do fireworks have to do with anything? Why do KOAs smell so bad, most of the time?


	4. Buffalos and Breakfast

THE OPEN ROAD

Chapter Four

By AliLamba

_

* * *

Ring ring riiiiiing. Ring ring riiiiiiing. _

One of Heero's eyelids lifted in a snap. Bright sunlight crept through the window curtains, meekly attempting to illuminate the dark room. Heero didn't know what that sound was, but he didn't like it…With a stifled groan he lifted his arm off of Relena's waist and brought it to his face, intent on mushing his skin into waking up. But then he froze.

He had lifted his arm...off of…Relena's waist.

Heero's eyes jumped to where his arm had rested just a moment before, and what he saw made him nearly blush.

The Foreign Minister's entire body was pushed flush against his, save for the light sheet between them. Last night came back to him in a rush of consciousness…at least he had enough sense to sleep on top of the bedding…

Heero shut his eyes and steeled himself against the warmth of her body.

_Ring ring riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing._

With all the stiff, awkward poise he possessed, Heero inched carefully away from her form. The current noise was hammering from his jacket pocket, strewn hastily over a chair at some point last night. Keeping eyes trained on her face, Heero saw that Relena's lips were parted slightly, and drool was beginning to pool at the corner of her mouth. For reasons he attributed to the grogginess of waking up after too much bad wine, the corners of Heero's mouth itched to quirk up in a grin.

How well he suppressed the urge to smile he attributed to all his years of training.

He took the vile, loud object into the bathroom, shutting the door before he could make too much noise.

"Yuy," he spoke hoarsely into the phone.

"Good morning, Agent Yuy," Heero remained silent to Colonel Une as he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror, crumpled clothes and messy hair. Not things that would get in the way, not a problem.

"I trust you are on track?" Heero also suppressed the urge to grumble. What did she mean _I trust you are on track?_ Of course they were on track.

"Affirmative."

Colonel Une seemed to expect the answer, and didn't question him further, "With your given coordinates, and the plans I have before me, it looks as if you are anticipating a three-day drive from San Francisco to New York City. Is this correct?"

Heero wondered why he was awake. It felt like he had just fallen asleep for the first time in years.

"Affirmative."

There was a pause on the other line, as if the Colonel was considering her words, which was unlike the usually straight-to-the-point woman.

"How is the Foreign Minister?"

"The Foreign Minister is," Heero heard his voice falter, and stood himself up straighter, "is fine. There was a slight incident at check-in, but there was no accident."

The Colonel let out a contemplative hum, and he sensed tension. "It is my understanding that the Foreign Minister was to expect a vacation this week. I trust you are making this as comfortable as possible." Heero's mind suddenly named her scent. It was something…really flowery.

"I am calling because the Foreign Minister's offices have been irritatingly persistent. Apparently, there are some things which require her immediate attention, and needed to be sent to her right away. I've taken the liberty of having them delivered to your location. Her work is waiting in the lobby with a personally appointed representative of Preventers. I expect that Miss Relena will still be sleeping soundly when you return."

Heero didn't question how the enigmatic woman knew Relena's position, "Affirmative. Yuy ou—"

"Agent Yuy," she cut him off, "I remind you again that this is the Foreign Minister's vacation. She has just been dealt a horrible ordeal from which she is still recovering, and is expectedly still unsure how she feels. I expect that you will take these factors into consideration during the rest of your mission."

Heero paused. What did that mean? Driving back to Reno? They had seen the puddle, there couldn't be that much more that she wanted. Regardless, he had been presented with a new objective.

"Accepted. Yuy out."

Heero clicked off the small phone, slipping the obstruction into the back pocket of his jeans. It was the third day straight of wearing them, and Heero knew that while there was no alternative, they were probably dirty. He passed from the bathroom and first looked to the bed, where Relena had tossed under the covers to the side of the bed he had been occupying five minutes before.

Her yellow-ish hair splayed across the pillows, some of it in her mouth, some of it rising and falling over her nostrils as she breathed. She was breathing. Alive—check.

For good measure, Heero verified the window again, noting that on the third floor little could be done about scaling the walls. The hotel sign was barricading the windowpane, another obstacle. Entries secure—check. There were no suspicious looking automobiles in the parking lot, save for the suspiciously happy-looking families loading up their station wagons for more "fun on the road." Heero gave them a cool, blank glance before crossing back across the room, sliding his gun under the pillow supporting Relena's head. In an emergency, she would be able to find it, and in an emergency, he had his spare.

The suitcase racks were placed in front of the door, should anyone try to barge in, Relena would hear the noise. It wasn't perfect, but he would be reprimanded if he kept the Preventer agent waiting for long. Heero took the card key and headed downstairs.

The only one in the lobby was sitting in a high-backed, plush armchair, sipping tea from a cup and saucer. Pale blond hair peaked over the top of chair's back, a hue that was entirely unmistakable. Heero felt the annoyance build up in him before he could stop it.

Quatre Raberba Winner seemed to sense a body was making its way towards him, because he set down his tea and stood from the chair before Heero had made it halfway from the elevators to his fellow agent.

"Heero," he said warmly with a smile to accompany it, "It's been a long time."

"Quatre," he muttered in return, almost with spite, "Great. I expect I'll be seeing Duo pretty soon—"

"Oh! Actually, he's expecting to see you when you get to Chicago." Heero exhaled a string of loudly muttered curses, loud enough to make a young girl passing by burst into tears. Heero's fists clenched at the wailing impounding his ears.

"Oh, hush hush baby," her mother soothed her, "It's just a bad man going to hell, come on…" Heero shot a murderous look into the retreating pair's back, but turning the look on Quatre didn't seem to be enough to crack his blond companion's cheerful demeanor.

"Miss Une told him about your plans, and thought that the time together would be enjoyable for Miss Relena."

"…probably just has an itty bit of a stick up his butt-hole, isn't that right, sweetie? It's okay, it's okay…"

"She gave him your mobile phone number, and Miss Relena's, so I doubt you'll be able to avoid them. Miss Une thinks it's best if you spend the night there, as she's sure you'll have plenty of time to get to New York afterwards."

"…Oh, hunny, don't worry, he probably just said those things because he was dropped on his head as a little itty bitty baby? Hasn't had enough time to recover from all the suppressed regression, did he sweetie? Not enough time during his anal stage of sexual development?"

"Uh-huh!" loud, snotty sniffles echoed through the parlor. Heero felt his teeth shaving away as he ground them together.

Quatre gave a warm smile to the mother and daughter standing by the elevator, but didn't show that he had taken in what they were saying. The elevator chimes alerted that the elevator was ready for its passengers, and the pair boarded with smothering words.

"You'll have a good time together."

Heero snorted and shoved his hands in his pockets, turning his head away.

"Is Miss Relena all right? I was hoping to see her this morning when you came down…"

"She's fine. Sleeping." Heero grunted, scoping the surroundings. He didn't mention that he had gotten her drunk the night before off a cheap bottle of wine, or the looks of disappointment he had caused on her face. She was alive upstairs, something that he should be ratifying pretty soon. "Une mentioned something for Relena?"

He caught the blond man in a smiling, contemplative look. Heero didn't know what the other man was thinking about, but he got the feeling he didn't like it.

"Oh! Right, here you are," Quatre picked a briefcase from off the ground by his chair and handed it to Heero, "A new mobile phone is inside for her, as well as the documents she needed. We would have put together a new set of clothes and amenities for her, but we didn't know her sizes or preferences. Perhaps you could see to those sometime today? You are making such good time as it is…"

Heero nodded mutely, his hand clutching the briefcase's handle tightly. Why did everyone seem so concerned with Relena's happiness? She was alive, wasn't she? Why wasn't that good enough? A nagging thought threatened to spill into consciousness, but Heero threw it back to his anal stage of development

"Would you mind if we had breakfast together first?" the question caught him off guard, "You made an excellent choice in hotels. There is a fantastic restaurant just off the lobby," Quatre gestured and Heero noticed the aforementioned eating establishment for the first time. _I guess I know who to compliment for the snails_…Heero mused without being able to stop it. A sudden insurgence of warmth threatened his gut. _Those stupid, stupid snails._ He quashed the feeling down.

Knowing he was expected to answer, Heero nodded mutely. Relena would probably like that, just as she would probably like seeing Duo and his girlfriend in Chicago. She would also probably like to spend the night. Heero felt himself grumbling as he headed for the elevator with the briefcase enclosed in his tight fist.

"I'll just, wait for you in there then!" he heard the voice behind his back, but didn't turn. The doors opened before him and he entered, riding to the third floor.

* * *

Relena was dreaming. One of those fitful, awkward dreams about being stark naked in public places, when suddenly a buffalo walks by and asks you where to buy a rubber ducky. You realize you speak perfect Armenian and reply kindly that you need a jelly sandwich for your baby. This only confuses the buffalo, which has dark blue eyes, and he tells you again to get out of bed. You reply that you are not in bed, but that you are on the iceberg the Titanic hit, and you're very worried about your jelly sandwich. The buffalo doesn't say anything, but looks at you as if you've sprouted a giant beanstalk from your ear, which is terrible embarrassing and you try frantically to smother it with your hair. Then you realize that the buffalo is Heero Yuy, and that he is staring at you in the hotel bed that you fell asleep in together last night…you think. It is pretty hard to remember what happened last night. You pry your hands away from your ear. 

"Are you…okay," Heero muttered. With the deep blue eyes of a person most definitely not on all fours, Heero regarded her state with a blank stare. Relena remembered her dream, noted that she probably had said half of her dream out loud, and whimpered.

Heero's eyes closed and he stood from squatting near her bed, heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

"Quatre Winner is waiting for us downstairs. You better get ready."

Feeling herself calming at the sound of a friendly name, Relena allowed herself to sit up, checking one last time that there was nothing large and green in her ear.

"Good morning Heero Yuy," she muttered quietly to herself, if not a bit sarcastically, running a hand through her tangled hair.

She missed Heero's head popping out of the bathroom door, a toothbrush dangling from his foam-covered mouth as she checked the time and put her wristwatch back on. It was already seven thirty in the morning; Heero had let them sleep in.

* * *

Breakfast was lovely. She knew that she was hanging around the wrong Gundam pilot, sitting across from Quatre in the restaurant, wearing an easy smile as they chatted idly over their bowls of fruit and yogurt. Heero's look was as dark as the coffee he was hording to himself, downing mug after mug. 

They talked about politics a little, and how Quatre's life had been and how Relena's life had been. Quatre had the dual duty of managing his father's business and being something of a political symbol, and the two were able to commiserate over long hours and certain long-winded evaluations of the petroleum situation.

They lamented the state of affairs of the colonies, and Quatre told her about his most recent trip to the former India, presenting her with a shawl he had bought for her there. Relena's face lit up as she felt the fabric, cooing and giving Quatre hugs across the table. Heero thought the shawl looked stupid, and sent Quatre not-so-hidden glares to tell him he thought so.

Eventually the subject of love lives came up.

"Well…" Relena contemplated, and Heero's ears perked up too noticeably for his own liking. "There is the Ambassador to the Americas, Ambassador Riley…"

"Oh, yes," Quatre chimed in, agreeing, "He escorted you to the Americas Summit in March, didn't he?"

Relena nodded quietly, remembering the night. "We went for dinner afterwards, and he was quite charming. It will tell you something about my work life that we haven't been able to meet up since, but he has been calling."

Quatre nodded, understanding, "Well he seems lovely. Tell me when there are wedding bells, will you?" he teased.

"Quatre!" she admonished playfully. "I hear he's been getting ready to campaign for a seat on ESUN, most likely for the Internal Affairs." Quatre responded with mirth.

"I hear that he had ulterior motives for seeking a position there."

Heero felt his mouth moving without noticing.

"I hear he eats babies."

Silence swept across the table as if time had frozen itself. Two horrified faces turned on Heero, and he suddenly felt very, very uncomfortable. Heero started gulping down his coffee, making the motions long after he had drained the cup.

Relena settled on a strange cough slash choke, and the topic changed to energy resources.

* * *

The goodbyes were said, noted with far more awkward formality on Heero's part, and eventually Relena reluctantly plied herself off Quatre enough to get back in the car. Her happy expression noticeably evaporated once she was seated on the leather upholstery. 

"So, where are we off to today, Mr. Yuy?"

Heero gave her a sidelong glance.

"New York."

Relena let out an exasperated sigh, letting her hands fall to her lap without sparing him a glance.

"And reasonably, where to today?"

Heero paused in his calculation. Reasonably? To him, that meant somewhere in the vicinity of New Jersey. But to Relena, this trip probably meant a leisurely stroll through the former United States, pausing every few miles for photos and knick-knacks. And he was starting to understand that this would be a very unpleasant mission if he did not give in at least a nanometer.

"You tell me."

He heard a scoff from her end of the car over the rev of the engine as he veered out of the parking lot. "Right. _You tell me_."

Another sidelong glance was issued from Heero's side of the car.

"I'm serious. Where do you want to stop."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Relena's jaw slacken, and she turned an aghast look upon him. Her mouth opened and closed for a minute, eventually closing in a thin, tight line.

Her lips were a pleasant shade of pink. This couldn't help but be noticed.

"I would like some new clothes." she said, through half-squinted eyes. Heero spared the road and looked his passenger over. She was wearing a navy blue skirt that came down to just above her knees, and a white blouse with short sleeves and a high neck that tapered in a ruffle. Small, white buttons trailed from the slight bump of her throat past her bellybutton, tucked underneath her skirt to disappear somewhere near the area between her thighs.

Heero had to hitch the wheel so as to not hit go off the road.

Other items of clothing: two female shoes, two and a half inch heels, color navy blue, and one navy blue blazer, fitted and next to her feet. No jewelry. Questionable undergarments, but probably white and possible lacy.

A loud, screeching sound assaulted Heero's ears, and it took but a half-second to realize he was out of his lane and onto the strip of pavement purposefully marked to alert sleepy or negligent drivers. Ignoring a look from Relena, Heero straightened his back and focused on avoiding all forms of road kill.

* * *

AN: Well…I have half of another scene, but I thought I would get SOMETHING out before I get enwrapped in working out that, finishing chapter two of Call to Arms, and finishing this other one-shot that's been on my mind for awhile. AND potentially finishing all those LJ 1xR's I'm behind on. Oi. HAPPY HOLIDAYS! 


End file.
